ments of our great critical authorities, rather than her own crude and ill-expressed opinions? But then, why did she not acknowledge the sources from which she drew the observations? She has done so in a few instances, and this proves that she intended the unacknowledged passages to be received as the emanations of her personal experience and sagacity. For the rest, nothing can be more imperfect than this compilation. Some of the best writers are not mentioned even by name; and in a great number of instances the names are incorrectly given, or the authors are inaccurately described. Of those that are named, the best works are frequently omitted; while, as regards the compiler's remarks, what is good is borrowed, and what is not borrowed is commonplace.

We hear a great deal in this age of what are called "Idées Napoléoniennes," the wisdom of Napoleon, and so forth. Some of this is invented by the writers, and ascribed to Napoleon; some of it is no wisdom at all; and some is what I call second-hand wisdom, an old familiar face with a new dress. Of this last sort is the famous saying:

"From the sublime to the ridiculous there is but a step."

For this remark Napoleon has obtained considerable notice. The truth, however, seems to be, that he adopted it from Tom Paine; Tom

T

Paine from Hugh Blair, and Hugh Blair from Longinus. Napoleon's words, as quoted by the Abbé De Pradt, are:

"Du sublime au ridicule il n'y a qu'un pas."

The passage in Tom Paine, whose writings were translated into French as early as 1791, stands thus:

"The sublime and the ridiculous are often so nearly related, that it is difficult to class them separately. One step above the sublime makes the ridiculous, and one step above the ridiculous makes the sublime again."

Blair has a remark akin to this:

"It is indeed extremely difficult to hit the precise point where true wit ends and buffoonery begins."

But the passage in Blair from which Tom Paine adopted his notion of the sublime and the ridiculous, is that in which Blair, commenting on Lucan's style, remarks :—

"It frequently happens that where the second line is sublime, the third, in which he meant to rise still higher, is perfectly bombast.”

Lastly, this saying is borrowed by Blair from his brother rhetorician, Longinus, who, in his "Treatise on the Sublime," has the following sentence at the beginning of Section III. :

“ Τεθόλωται γὰρ τῇ φράσει, καὶ τεθορύβηται ταῖς φαντασίαις μᾶλλον ἢ δεδείνεται, κἂν ἕκαστον αὐτῶν πρὸς αὐγὰς ἀνασκοπῇς ἐκ τοῦ φοβεροῦ κατ ̓ ὀλίγον ὑπονοστεῖ πρὸς τὸ εὐκαταφρόνητον.

This is referred to by Warton in his comments on Pope's translation of the "Thebais" of Statius; and Dr. Croly, apparently unacquainted with the passages in Paine and Blair, describes it in his edition of Pope as the anticipation of Napoleon's celebrated remark. It will be seen that the original saying has undergone a slight modification, Longinus making the transition a gradual one, "Har' iniyor," while Blair, Paine, and Napoleon make it "but a step." Yet, notwithstanding this disguise, the marks of its paternity are sufficiently traceable.

So much for this celebrated apothegm. And after all there is very little wit or wisdom in it that is not expressed or suggested by Seneca's remark:

"Nullum ingenium magnum sine mixtura dementiæ;"

or, as Shakspeare adopts it in "Measure for Measure:"_

"Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense;"

or Dryden, more closely still, in the well-known line:

"Great wits are sure to madness near allied;"

or Bayle, where he says:

"Il n'y a point de grand esprit dans le caractère duquel il n'entre un peu de folie."

The sentiment also occurs in Horace's line:

Aut insanit homo, aut versus facit;"

or, as old Passerat has it in this quatrain on Thulene, the buffoon:

"Sire, Thulène est mort, j'ai vu sa sépulture,
Mais il est presque en vous de le ressuciter,
Faites de son état un poète héritier;

Le poète et le fou sont de même nature.”

Shakspeare, in "As You like It," has a kindred thought:

"All's brave that youth mounts and folly guides;"

which Dryden echoes in his "

Edipus:"

"But Fortune will have nothing done that's great
But by young handsome fools.

Fool is the stuff of which Heaven makes a hero."

And Rochester in the lines:

"The very top

And dignity of folly we attain,

By studious search and labour of the brain:

An eminent fool must be a man of parts."

The same thought is reproduced in La Rochefoucauld's "Maxims :"

"La plus subtile folie se fait de la plus subtile sagesse." "Plus on aime une maîtresse, plus on est près de la haïr.”

In Rousseau's remark :

"Tout état qui brille est sur son déclin."

In Beaumarchais' exclamation :

"Que les gens d'esprit sont bêtes !"

In the old French proverb :

"Les extrêmes se touchent."

In the English adage:

"The darkest hour is nearest the dawn."

And in the following passages in our poets:

"Evils that take leave,

On their departure most of all show evil."

Shakspeare.

"Dark with excessive light thy skirts appear."

Milton.

"Wit, like tierce claret, when 't begins to pall,
Neglected lies, and 's of no use at all;
But in its full perfection of decay

Turns vinegar, and comes again in play."

Rochester.

Pilgrim, trudge on: what makes thy soul complain
Crowns thy complaint; the way to rest is pain;
The road to resolution lies by doubt;

The next way home 's the farthest way about."

Quarles.

"Such huge extremes inhabit thy great mind, Godlike, unmoved—and yet, like woman, kind." Waller.

"The water'd eyven from whence the teares do fall,
Do feel some force or elce they would be dry;
The wasted flesh of colour ded can try,
And sometime tell what sweetness is in gall."

Wyatt.

"So every sweet with soure is temper'd still."

Spenser.